


Numerical Expressions

by Kaiserkorresponds



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker Friendship, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs Therapy, Light Angst, Protective Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), The Magnus Archives Season 1, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29674074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiserkorresponds/pseuds/Kaiserkorresponds
Summary: "It looked kinda important, Jon." Tim said carefully. "Sort of like a log or like–""Well, it wasn't." Jon cut him off abruptly, the crunch of the sticky note near deafening in the sudden quiet.There was a handful of terse, silent seconds."Do you track your food, Jon?"--Jon slips into an unhealthy coping mechanism with the stress of his new promotion.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 74





	Numerical Expressions

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ED centered fic including numbers. If that is triggering for you plz don't read. <3 
> 
> (Although feel free to check out my other fics !)

_Calorie Log (December 4, 2020)_

_Spiced Tea: 122 kcals_

_Biscuit (1): 89 kcals_

_Clementine (½): 47 kcals_

_Water (22 oz): 0 kcals_

"Hey boss, whatcha working on over there?"

Jon jerked his head up, reflexively shoving the scrap of paper out of sight as Tim's drawl echoed into the room.

"Nothing." He bit out far too quickly.

"It's nothing important, Tim." He repeated, measuring his tone carefully. "Simply a few– erm, measurements."

"Didn't look like nothing, boss." Tim said, still peering inquisitively at the table as if he could see the paper through Jon's fingers 

"Yes, well, it's truly not important." 

A slight crease formed between Tim's eyebrows and a hint of a frown tugged at his mouth.

"You sure?" He asked, leaning just the tiniest bit farther toward the paper. 

Jon immediately crumpled it under his palm, ignoring the fact that it ruined the carefully inscribed numbers, in favor of blocking it out of view. 

"Yes, very– very sure."

Tim's eyebrows drew closer and his gaze flicked between Jon and the now crushed note. 

"It looked kinda important, Jon." He said carefully. "Sort of like a log or like–" 

"Well, it wasn't." Jon cut him off abruptly, the crunch of the sticky note near deafening in the sudden quiet.

There was a handful of terse, silent seconds. 

"Do you track your food, Jon?" 

"No." Jon snapped immediately, staunchly ignoring the flare of anxiety that rose up in his chest at the question.

"I don't– I, I really should be going." 

He rose hastily from the chair with a rough creak of the wood and strode as quickly as professionalism would allow towards his office. Still clutching the incriminating note between his fingertips. 

"Jon?" 

Tim's voice, against his better judgment, stopped him right before he could reach the door. 

"Yes, Tim?" He turned stiffly back to where Tim was still standing on the breakroom's sticky floor. Making sure to keep his expression as flat, and his voice as curt, as the sudden rush of nerves would allow. 

"If you're struggling with anything you know you can come to us, right? Especially if you're–" Tim paused, visibly searching for the words. "Feeling restrictive?" 

A fresh surge of anxiety exploded in his chest and Jon had to near force the words through the sudden tightness. 

"I– I'm not. Thank you for the offer, Tim. I'm perfectly, perfectly fine." 

The sticky note emitted another devastatingly loud crunch with the words. One that almost resonated in the tiny space and drew both of their eyes involuntarily to it. 

A look of what appeared to be sadness– or could have been disapproval– flickered across Tim's face. 

"Just keep it in mind, okay Jon?" He said, his voice softer than Jon had ever heard and his eyes still trained on the barely intact ball of paper. 

Jon nodded stiffly, muttering something he hoped would be received as a thank you, and strode hastily back out of the door. 

As he near sprinted out, he could barely hear Tim's sigh over his own strained exhales and the pounding of his heart. Both of which felt deafening loud in his ears, drowning out any other sounds. 

All other sounds besides the crunching of the paper, and the tiny, incriminating numbers scored upon it. 

Which was still loud and clear within his tight, far too tight, grip.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Just some Jon & Tim angst with an over stressed S1 Jon !! (With a v v detrimental coping mechanism.) 
> 
> If you enjoyed plz drop a comment or kudos !! <3 
> 
> (Also any ED fics I write are from personal experience. I'm not attempting to glorify or use it as a plot device.)


End file.
